


A Town Painted Red

by vermillionberry



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angry Jason Todd, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied Sexual Content, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Mildly Dubious Consent, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Batfamily (DCU), Protective Dick Grayson, Protective Jason Todd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:00:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29991492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vermillionberry/pseuds/vermillionberry
Summary: Caroline Todd had braved the streets of Gotham her entire life. She was alone in her journey, she relied on less than legal practices to get by. The entirety of Crime Alley is sent for a spin when a new vigilante introduces himself; he, unlike the bat he wears on his chest, does not have ethical limitations. But something about the red helmet'ed 'savior' strikes Caroline as similar, as if they've met before. He takes a particular interest in her, much to her astonishment, and she soon finds herself being protected by Gotham's most violent vigilante.
Relationships: Batfamily Members & Original Female Character(s), Bruce Wayne & Original Female Character(s), Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Original Female Character(s), Jason Todd & Reader
Kudos: 3





	A Town Painted Red

**Author's Note:**

> I want to reiterate that this is NOT canon compliant. It follows the theme of Under the Red Hood, however I have my own character and my own plot line. Please watch the trigger warnings carefully as well, there will be graphic content. I also apologize for any errors, I ran out of the patience to proof read.

One night...one fucking night was all that Caroline needed to make up the difference. One night of misery and she could keep her apartment for the next month. She had promised herself she would never have to depend on that lifestyle again. What other choice did she have? The streets were not an option, and crashing at someone's place until she could get back on her feet was out of the question; she refused to be a burden. She wouldn't put that responsibility on Claire, the only person who would potentially open their home to her. She didn't need Caroline adding more baggage to an already complicated situation. 

Working the corner was the only feasible option. It was just for one night, she could get a few clients and make up the cash within a few hours. Just enough to pay the bills for one more month..just enough. She promised herself she would never revert to this hell, but there was nothing else she could do. 

Caroline stared at herself in the crooked bathroom mirror with an expression akin to disappointment. Her lips were painted obnoxiously red; a dress squeezed her in all the right places, much to her chagrin. She never thought she would be back in this predicament, back in this black hole of desperation. She had worked so damn hard to claw her way out of the life. She worked hard to avoid selling her body to the highest bidder, just to put a meal on the table and keep a roof over her head. She had made her way up in the world, from prostitute to waitress; it was an advancement, one she embraced with open arms. Frankly, anything was better than working the corner; getting scolded by hungry and irritable Gothamites was a fucking luxury. 

As the month preceded, her hours dwindled. She had a burning hole in her pocket and no way to make up the extra rent money. She contemplated begging her landlord for an extension, just a few days until she could get a side gig and make up the difference. That dream was shattered the second the burly man came knocking on her door, demanding that rent be paid, or he'd kick her out on her ass. She pleaded and assured him that she would have the money in a few days. He scoffed in her face, the way most people in Gotham did. He wasn't running a fucking charity, after all. 

She couldn't entirely blame him either. She could've gone without the rudeness, the attitude, but she understood that he needed to be a tough fucker, or the people of this city would walk all over him. They would use him and eat away at his flesh until there was nothing left but a rotting corpse. Still, she had never been late; she had been a model tenant. Could he not afford her two measly days to get her ducks in order? It all seemed rather cruel. Arguing with him was pointless, and further angering the stout man would only get her kicked out on her ass all that much sooner. She resisted the urge to point out his receding hairline, and question if his impending baldness was the cause of his bitter outlook on life. 

She had one night to figure things out, and after exhausting every resource, accepted that turning tricks on Park Row would have to do. Twilight was just around the corner; the sun was setting and casting a deceivingly peaceful glow across the city of Gotham. The dark brought crime, brutality, and destruction. The smart ones knew to lock their doors at night, stay inside, and sleep with a gun under their pillow. The desperate ones had no such leisure. At the very least, she was a seasoned player and knew the rules. She knew what precautions to take, which clients had potential, and which to avoid at all costs. The dubious ones typically made themselves known. Most of them were repeat pervs and preyed on the new working girls that didn't have enough experience to know better. 

With darkness came crime and death, and pain, but it also brought cover. In the heat and slick of a city night, no one judged. Every Gothamite had its vices. It was a known fact, and no one made a move to claim otherwise. 

Caroline had spotted three working girls during the short walk from her apartment to the best corner in Crime Alley. She was minimally glad to see other women in the same bitter predicament as herself. Even though she felt sympathetic, it was comforting to have a network of similarly understanding people. Still, they would pose as competition for the night, and that she couldn't have. She knew the streets better than any of the fresh faces that stood before her. 

Two of the girls had cigarettes hanging limply in their hands. The third looked alarmingly younger than both, not that underage girls working a corner was unusual in these parts. Caroline had started at thirteen and quite just before she was legally an adult; how ironic. 

Her 'coworkers" sneered as she walked by and stood her ground a decent few feet away. Maybe things had changed during her hiatus. When she was working full-time, girls stuck together. Keeping each other safe was more significant than a paycheck or a beating. The girls glared at her with such ferociousness that she began to question her previous ethics. The younger of the trio shied away from expressing any disdain. She kept her head down, eyes flush with the littered cement of Gotham. 

Caroline made a subconscious reminder to keep her eye's on that one. She had half a mind to wrap her up in a coat and send her up the flat. Knowing her determination at that age, it would be a fruitless battle. No working girl would ever willingly give up a paycheck. Money over comfort was a mantra that had drilled into their minds from day one. 

A bad feeling stirred in her gut as a man approached the ladies enthusiastically. He struggled to walk in a straight line, and based on the slurred mumbling, was drunk. The lust in his eyes was sickening as they made their way up and down Caroline's legs. She didn't bother to put an act on for him, she would never agree to pleasure a man that couldn't even recite his name properly. His gaze moved onto the others just as quickly and lingered on the young girl. Caroline saw his shifty gaze, and among other things, it screamed danger. He looped her arm around her waist in a display of dominance and lust. "Anyone ever told ya how nice that ass looks in that dress?" She gave a fake smile, eyebrows pinched, but lidded her eyes nonetheless and offered a seductive chuckle. Caroline would have rolled her eyes at the display had her stomach not been tossing with unease. "Oh yeah? If you wanna go a few rounds I'm all yours." His erection answered for him, bulge struggling against the confines of his pants. He practically dragged her into the alley adjacent to the corner street. 

Caroline knew this wouldn't end well. No legitimate client agreed to a quick fuck in the alley, none that intended on paying anyway.  
It was looking like her night was bound to be a disaster. Unfortunately for Caroline, she had a conscience and could not stand by while the poor girl was assaulted and left penniless against the cold bricks. She had been in that predicament once or twice. If someone had been there to save her, maybe she could have lived a different life or chosen a different path. 

Caroline resigned herself from the corner and made her way towards the impending chaos of the alleyway. She wouldn't let another young girl suffer at the hands of this forsaken city, not over her dead body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just an introduction to the story, Red hood will make an appearance soon. I wanted to give a little insight into Caroline's situation, and her predicament later to come. Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this let me know! I will be trying to update as regularly as possible, which is increasingly difficult with the pandemic. Kudos and comments are always appreciated! : )


End file.
